


My Own Beginning; or, The Doctor Gets A(nother) Reboot

by stellar_dust



Category: Doctor Who, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-17
Updated: 2009-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellar_dust/pseuds/stellar_dust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tenth Doctor finds out about the Guardian of Forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Own Beginning; or, The Doctor Gets A(nother) Reboot

**one**   
_now_

"What do you _mean_, you can't show the future? Some Guardian you are, missing fully half your charge, don't think I won't complain!"

"I WAS MADE TO OFFER THE PAST IN THIS MANNER. I CANNOT CHANGE."

"Right, yes, so you said."

The Guardian of Forever's pulsing light show reflected orangely along the planes of the Doctor's face, giving him a devilish appearance against the purpleish ruins of the planet's eternal night. His shadowed eyes focused intently as he ran his hands over the smooth, ageless surface of the Guardian's ring, searching for a mechanism - searching for an answer.

"You said you were _made_. You don't seem like a _made_ thing. Who _made_ you?"

"I AM MY OWN BEGINNING. AND MY OWN ENDING."

"No! Are you really? That's quite a trick."

The Doctor stepped back and put his hands on his hips, shaking the dust of centuries from his hair. He narrowed his eyes at the stone in front of him, inscrutable edifice versus living paradox.

"You've got Vortex energy off the scale," the Doctor muttered. "Couldn't even park the TARDIS closer than fifty meters. You give my TARDIS the heebie-jeebies , you scream _temporal anomaly!_ even louder than Jack - if that's possible - I haven't felt this much time potential since - "

The Doctor's eyes widened; he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, his face threatening to split apart in a massive grin. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, you _are_, aren't you? A wee little baby TARDIS, thrown all the way out here on the crest of the Time War, all confused and alone and so _full_ of power, look what's become of you, you didn't deserve this, none of you did, I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, I'll help you, I _promise_ I will, I'll --"

"I DO NOT UNDERSTAND," the Guardian intoned.

The Doctor walked forward again, looking up at the curve of stone. His hand reached out, would have touched the almost imperceptible film of pure time that filled the Guardian's opening like the skin of a bubble.

"This is Gallifrey," he breathed. "I don't _believe_ it, this planet is _Gallifrey!_ Guardian! _Guardian!_"

 

**two**   
_then_

It started in the spaceport bar on Altair 6. The Doctor tended to avoid the Federation period of Earth's history - much more interesting goings-on during the Empire - but it had been a while since he'd checked in on them, and he'd struck up a conversation with the dark-haired Starfleet officer nursing a Saurian brandy in the corner booth.

Starfleet officers, much like UNIT officers, came in two sizes: boring with a side of extra boring, and explosively fascinating. Lieutenant Chekov was shaping up to be one of the interesting ones.

"You are a Time Lord?"

"Yep, that's me, Lord of Time, all right."

"You can take people back to the past?"

... Maybe not such a good idea to bring this one along after all. "I can. And forward. And my ship moves in space, too, naturally."

Chekov sipped at his drink, eying the Doctor suspiciously. "I don't know, sir. It sounds a leetle bit too much like ze Guardian of Forewer."

"Oh come on, don't call me 'sir,' you Earth military types, always -- hang on, the Guardian of the who's a what now?"

The Doctor barely waited for the end of Chekov's story before he was back on the TARDIS and on his way (to the planet Gateway, and what a ridiculous name for a planet - _humans_. Rassillon only knew what a mangle they'd've made of Gallifrey, left to their own devices!).

He didn't hear the waiter asking if he still wanted his order of fries. Luckily, Chekov was available to solve that problem.

 

**two point five**   
_then_

The TARDIS was refusing to let him out.

"It'll be all right, old girl. I promise." The Doctor paused at the door, sonic screwdriver at the ready just in case persuasion failed. "Nothing's going to happen. I'll be back before you know it."

The door stayed closed. Lights on the console flickered in sequence.

"Aw, come on. ... Please?"

The air inside the console room seemed to go soft for a moment, and then a burst of wind propelled the door open and the Doctor through.

The door closed behind him with a definitive _pffffft._

"Thank you," he said softly, reaching out to pat the blue panels. "I'll be right back."

The Doctor set off at a brisk pace in the direction the TARDIS had refused to proceed. Runes on the abandoned walls tickled at a long-forgotten place in a corner of the Doctor's mind, but he didn't stop for a closer look; the nearer he came to the mysterious Guardian, the more urgently he was drawn to it, flitting ever faster like a pinstriped elf through the silvery moonlit darkness. It tugged at something deep within him, something lost, something that should have been in the space between his hearts.

He turned a corner around a fallen column and there it was.

A rock. Just a circle of rock.

A circle of rock, in a clearing that fairly _crackled_ with tension and power. The Doctor's hair stood on end.

"Well. Hello there!" he said loudly, diffusing just a tiny bit of tension as he bounded up to the stone.

"What're you, then? Anyone home?" And before the Doctor could stop himself he'd rapped lightly, quickly, four times in succession along the Guardian's right arch.

He snatched his fingers back as though they'd been burnt, as though he wanted to take it back (_please let him take it back!_), and the Guardian of Forever lit from within.

"A QUESTION," it said. "SINCE BEFORE YOUR SUN - SINCE BEFORE YOUR - SINCE BE-"

"Yes?" asked the Doctor.

With an air of clearing its throat, the Guardian started over.

"I HAVE AWAITED A QUESTION."

"Well, I'd say you've got one. Care to tell me what you are, or should I just find out the hard way?"

"I AM THE GUARDIAN OF FOREVER. I AM A GATEWAY TO THE PAST."

"A gateway to the past," mused the Doctor. "That does sound a bit like me. Lieutenant Pavel was right, how about that? Hmm, so how about the future, Guardian? I could show you the future. Can you show _me_ the future?"

 

**three**   
_now_

The Doctor's hand trembled. He almost daren't breathe.

Did he want the answer? Did he really want the answer? Was it possible? Could he change it? Could he _fix_ it? And if he could, did he _dare_? This would be more dangerous fire than he'd touched since ... well, since the last time.

Oh, hell, he was the Doctor. Of course he dared.

"ASK."

"Guardian, can you show me your own past? Can you show me who made you?"

"I CANNOT. I AM MY OWN ENDING, AND MY OWN BEGINNING."

"And you can't exist outside yourself, makes sense, makes sense ....."

The Doctor closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "Guardian. Show me _my_ past."

"ARE YOU CERTAIN THIS IS WHAT YOU WISH?"

The Doctor swallowed. Last chance to turn back.

No way.

"Yes, Guardian. Do it."

"VERY WELL. I WILL TRY. .... BEHOLD, A GATEWAY TO YOUR OWN -- TO YOUR -- A GATEWAY TO -- WHAT ARE YOU? HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?"

"I am what I am. Please, Guardian, keep on."

The Guardian did not answer. A flurry of images chased across the opening, inches from the Doctor's still upraised hand. He stared into the Vortex, counting, concentrating, lips moving silently, oblivious as the steam cascading from the Guardian's interior was joined by caustic smoke, then by showers of sparks. A violent breeze ruffled the hair across his forehead.

In the vortex, someone hit a Dalek with a baseball bat. A tall woman kissed a long-haired man beside a dark ocean. Clocks chimed midnight, and someone was singing.

"Now!" yelled the Doctor. "Now! Go! Now!"

The Doctor went.

Silence.

The Guardian flickered once, then went out. A trail of smoke drifted upward, toward the stars.

Then the Cloister Bell began to ring.

 

**four**   
_Orbital defense platform, Gallifrey_   
_then_

"MASTER!" the Doctor yelled. He tucked a sweat-drenched ringlet behind his ear and waved a cloud of smoke away from the instrument panel. "MASTER, DAMN YOU, ANSWER ME!"

He glanced at the viewscreen as his fingers flew across the keyboards. Dalek ships were pounding the Capital; the mountains had already been leveled, and oh he hoped Leela had made it out in time. _Time Lords should have a more effective defense system, damn it!_

He could fix this though. He knew he could fix this, he could fix _everything_, if only the Master would get off his self-important ass and push the blasted button!

"Master! Listen to me! We have only a matter of minutes until the Daleks deploy their Time Bomb! I don't need to tell you what will happen if they set it off before I can - or if I deploy ours before you've reverse-"

"Hello!" The viewscreen flickered to life. "The Master's not here right now, he's already buggered off to the end of time, you won't see _him_ again for another couple of centuries - well, maybe sooner, now I've told you where to look - make sure you give him what-for - oh, but look at _you_ then!"

The _person_ on the screen was wearing a three-piece brown pinstriped suit, had the most ridiculous hair the Doctor had ever seen, and was beaming like he'd just discovered the secret of sliced bread.

There was something obnoxiously familiar about the man, but the Doctor didn't have the luxury to ruminate.

"Look, whoever you are - "

"Oh, I _miss_ that coat! Never thought I'd miss that coat." The man on the viewscreen was grinning gleefully. His joy was annoyingly infectious. "Don't miss the hair though. You should really think about cutting that."

The Doctor smiled, rather against his will. _You should talk._ "Can we discuss this later? Since you're there, would you mind terribly if I asked you to kindly reverse the neutron polarity of the transmission beam? If it doesn't - "

"Already done!" The man waggled his fingers and grinned even more widely. "Cheerio, Doctor! You go be your brilliant, brilliant self!"

"I -" The Doctor looked down at his instruments. Sure enough, the flow had reversed. It was time.

His joyous smile turned grim, and the Doctor pushed the big, scary, red button that must never, ever be pushed.

 

**four point five**   
_one universe to the left_

"Doctor?"

"Mmmmmph," the Doctor moaned. He opened one eye, very slowly.

The platform was a disaster area. The lights were out - emergency lighting on though, that was good - charred, twisted metal everywhere. Still smoking. Surely he hadn't been out long.

"Doctor? Are you there? Please respond."

"Mmmph - Romana? Romana!" The Doctor leapt to his feet and lunged for the communications toggle switch. "Romana! Madame President! Did it work?"

Romana's face lit up in an affectionate smile. "It worked, Doctor. You did it. All scanners show the Daleks missing - completely gone from the entire time stream. The Daleks _never existed_, Doctor. Congratulations!"

"Yes, well, all in a day's work really." The Doctor felt his face turning red, and cast about for something to do with his hands.

"A day's work that you began two and a half centuries ago?"

"Mmm," said the Doctor. He settled on straightening his cravat. "... well, let bygones be bygones, shall we?"

"We'll see, Doctor." Romana shook her head. "For tonight, though, there will be a celebration. And a ceremony - all heroes of the Time War will be awarded an Order of Rassillon. That includes you."

"Yes, well, I've got one already, don't need a second paperweight. Anyway, I - Romana, I feel as though I'd left the kettle on to boil in someone else's kitchen. Do you know what I mean?"

"Not really, Doctor." Romana's eyes twinkled.

The Doctor smiled softly. "Ah, Romana, wouldn't you like to come travel with me again?"

"Ah, Doctor, wouldn't you like to be President of Gallifrey again?"

The Doctor winced. "Point. I'll see you later, Romana."

"If you change your mind about the celebration, we'll be in the primary banquet hall until well after dawn, I'm sure."

"I'll keep it in mind. Defense One out."

The Doctor toggled off the communicator and massaged a lump on the back of his head.

He was definitely forgetting something. What could he possibly be forgetting?

Ah. He looked up at the viewscreen, still showing the engineering room where he'd left the Master - was it really only an hour ago? The man in the suit had gone, but in his place was a note - in English, of all things: "Doctor - Good work! THERE ARE STILL DALEKS IN THE VORTEX. Love, Me -P.S. You're brilliant! Love the cravat!"

"Hmm, thanks," the Doctor muttered, feeling a smile once again tugging at the corner of his lips. "I seem to have acquired a mission."

He turned and strode purposefully to the TARDIS, parked silently and sure in the corner of the control room.

He paused with one hand on the door, muttering, "I _still_ feel like I've forgotten something!"

 

**five**   
_one universe to the right_

The Doctor emerged from the Guardian of Forever, victorious and ecstatic.

"Yes! Yes, yes, _yes_, YES!! I did it! Guardian, you're brilliant! I really did it! I really won the Time War! I- oh no. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, _no_, NO -"

The Doctor paused, staggered backward, halfway to hugging the Guardian's left arch.

The Cloister Bell was still ringing, loud and clear in the darkness.

The Doctor's eyes widened. His jaw went slack.

The rumble began deep below the ground. At first, only pebbles moved. Then standing columns fell and burst to pieces. Then walls.

In only minutes there would be an all-out avalanche.

"Guardian, what did I do? What happened? Can you fix it? Can I fix it?"

"ALL THAT YOU KNEW .. IS GONE. I AM .. I AM PART OF YOUR PAST .."

"_Guardian!_!"

"I HAVE AWAITED .. A QUESTION .. "

"**Guardian!**"

"WHO .. ARE YOU?"

"_I'M THE DOCTOR! WHO ARE YOU?_"

"YOU ARE THE DOCTOR. BUT .. DOCTOR .. WHO?"

"_GUARDIAN!!_"

An earthquake coincided with a lightening bolt. The Guardian of Forever split down the middle. Fingers of electricity crackled around its edges, then flickered out.

With an anticlimactic _crunch_, the Guardian of Forever never was.

"Oh, no," breathed the Doctor. He backpedaled as quickly as his feet would take him over the treacherous ground, one hand out to protect his back, running into a boulder and then working his way around it. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, nononono, oh please no, no, no ....."

There was the tiniest flicker of light where the Guardian had stood. The Doctor saw it, turned, and _ran_.

 

**five point five**   
_one universe to the right_

The TARDIS welcomed him back with open doors, and the Cloister Bell quieted on its own once they'd reached a safe distance from the planet. The Doctor leaned against the console and positioned the viewscreen.

The planet formerly known as Gateway filled the monitor. "Oh please don't," the Doctor murmured as he stared fixedly. "Just _don't_, all right? _Don't_."

Suddenly, as a piece of scrap paper is crumpled and tossed in the bin, the planet twisted, writhed, and winked out.

"No. NO!" The Doctor pounded the console with his fist. The strains of "In the Mood" filled the room.

"STOP IT!" He pounded again and the music stopped. What else - "Martha, Martha, call Martha!"

The Doctor fumbled for his cell phone, dropped it, caught it, hit speed dial. "Martha!"

"We're sorry, this network has been disconnected. Please try -"

"NO!" The Doctor dropped the phone like a hot coal, and this time let it fall to rest beneath the grating of the floor.

The Doctor was shaking. His knees collapsed, and he pulled himself forward until he was curled beneath the console. "What have I done, what have I done, what have I--"

He stopped, closed his eyes, clutched his head between his ears. "Wait, okay, think. What _have_ I done?"

The Doctor's shaking quieted. He cast his mind, calmly, into the mathematics of Time.

_Point. The Guardian of Forever was a relict of the destruction of Gallifrey._

Point. The Doctor used the Guardian of Forever to forestall the destruction of Gallifrey. Gallifrey was not destroyed.

Therefore: The Guardian of Forever never existed.

Therefore: The Doctor did not use the Guardian to save Gallifrey.

Therefore: Gallifrey was destroyed.

Therefore: The Guardian of Forever was created.

The paradox is resolved if: Gallifrey never existed -- even less than it existed before. The Time War never occurred. The Guardian of Forever never existed. The Doctor did not use the Guardian to save Gallifrey.

Gallifrey is now twice-damned.

Point. The temporal field generated by the Guardian protected the Doctor and the TARDIS from all necessary alterations to the timestream.

"Oh sodding hell," said the Doctor. He knocked his head, hard, against the base of the console. "I've gone and created a parallel universe. _Again_."

He'd saved _a_ Gallifrey, at least. For someone else.

The Guardian of Forever was its own beginning and ending.

The TARDIS eventually picked the Doctor off the floor, made him some tea, and put him to bed.

 

**six**   
_one universe to the left_

The Doctor kept thinking about a garden.

Not just any garden. A _very particular_ garden.

Only he was sure he'd never seen it before.

_The garden is walled with rosebushes. There are beds of jack-in-the-pulpit, beds of blue astrid daisies, ponds overflowing with lucky marsilea. In pride of place, in the very center of the garden, is a massive island of brilliantly blooming belladonna._

He couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was driving him _mad_.

"Okay! All right!" He lay down his book, stopped the record on the turntable. "My dear, I know it's been a few years since I tended the greenhouses, but is it really so very urgent?"

_Yes_, he seemed to hear in the back of his mind. _It is_.

The hair rose on the back of his neck.

"Okay," whispered the Doctor. "I'll do it."

 

**six point five**   
_one universe to the left_

Whistling, the Doctor stripped work gloves from his hands as he strode along the corridor. He'd finally finished the garden - couldn't believe he'd put it off for so long, there really was something rejuvenating about the place. Must be good feng shui. He was even thinking about moving the console room there --

He paused. Well. _Thinking_ about it.

The nagging sensation that had been with him since Gallifrey faded in the garden, too, and even the TARDIS seemed more lighthearted. He'd no idea what it meant, but hey, if it worked --

The Doctor came to a crossing of corridors, and found himself face-to-face with his own reflection in a full-length mirror.

"Hmm," he said.

For a moment he thought he'd seen the man in the suit, who had helped him end the Time War.

Must have been a trick of light.

"There's no such thing as the Time Agency," the Doctor told himself.

Well, obviously not; but that felt like a really magnificent piece of knowledge. He tried again.

"For the record, I would look _terrible_ in black leather."

Even better. The Doctor grinned and poked at his ears. He could feel the TARDIS laughing around him.

"Come on, then!" The Doctor bounded into the console room. "London! If the Daleks in the Vortex show their little metal faces anywhere, it's bound to be there! It always is!"

_YEAR?_ The computer blinked dully at him.

"Huh. No idea." The Doctor closed one eye, and let the other glaze over. "Hmm. All right. Why not?"

The Doctor shook himself, and entered 2-0-0-9.

 

**seven**   
_one universe to the right_

It took precisely two adventures, one bout of depression, and a stop at the post office for the Doctor to decide he really rather _enjoyed_ being the only person in the universe capable of manipulating time. This wasn't a universe where the Time War never-happened-sort-of-except-for-all-the-little-bits-of-it-everywhere. This was a universe where the Time War really, truly, completely _never happened_.

It made everything so much wonderfully _simpler_.

Lonely, yeah, but that part he was used to.

It was about then that he found himself sitting on a park bench next to an unusually dejected-looking young Vulcan.

"It's a beautiful day in sunny old San Francisco!" said the Doctor expansively. "The sun is shining, the birds are singing, why so glum?"

"You mentioned sunshine twice," said the Vulcan in a reasonable approximation of a monotone.

"Well, so I did!" exclaimed the Doctor. "That's even stranger then, twice the sunshine and such a long face."

"I respectfully request that you refrain from teasing me and leave me alone."

"What? Teasing? I wouldn't - " the Doctor paused. The Vulcan was staring at his hands, which were tightly clasped and shaking.

"Ah," said the Doctor softly. "I'm sorry. I'll shut up now."

He crossed his legs in front of him and gazed out over the lake. Two swans alit in the center, near a fountain that sprayed water in a double parabola - the shape of a Starfleet crest. _Humans._

A flock of ducks joined the swans ten minutes later.

A cloud began to cover the sun.

The Vulcan's hands slowly stopped shaking.

"Had you truly not heard about the destruction of Vulcan?"

The Doctor's hearts plummeted. "I hadn't," he whispered. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry, if I'd known --"

"It's all right. Now you know."

"How? I mean - do you want to talk about it?"

"No. But I believe I shall, in any case."

"I'm all ears. .. I mean, no pun intended."

"None taken," replied the Vulcan flatly. He took a deep breath. "A madman from the future blew it up. I saw my mother die before my eyes. I am one of several hundred survivors, and a man who claims to be a future version of myself - from a parallel universe where Vulcan was saved - has implored me to take this opportunity to follow my dreams, abandoning the remnants of my people to their fate. None of this is logical. I do not know what I should do. I do not know why I am telling you this. Discussing it has not helped at all." He folded his arms and hunched further into himself, bowing his head.

"Ah," said the Doctor. He didn't move. "What's your name, by the way?"

"My name is Spock."

"Hello, Mr. Spock." He said it like a cork exiting a bottle at high velocity. "I'm the Doctor. Did I ever tell you about my home planet? Gallifrey?"

"I have just met you. You have told me nothing." Spock looked up. "But I have never heard of a planet called Gallifrey."

"That's .. because it doesn't exist anymore. There was an accident. It's ... look, I'm going about this all in the wrong order, but the point being, Mr. Spock, I need to go make sure that time rift you mentioned gets properly closed - future madman, future you, time rift, yeah? - and I think we have a lot in common and I'd love for you to to come help me do it!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, didn't I mention? I have a spaceship. Over that way."

The Doctor gestured in the direction of some tall bushes. Spock leaned forward, then leaned back, one eyebrow climbing to his hairline.

"It's bigger than it looks!" the Doctor said defensively.

"A pocket universe." Spock nodded. "Fascinating."

"Come on now, you can't tell me you don't want to have a look at that?"

"Indeed, Doctor, I am most intrigued. However - should I elect to do so - I am expected to report on board the _Enterprise_ in three hours. Hardly enough time to properly analyze a pocket universe, let alone travel across the galaxy visiting - visiting time rifts."

"Oh, didn't I mention?" grinned the Doctor. This was his favorite part. "It also travels in time."

At that, both eyebrows shot up.

The Doctor realized his mistake immediately.

"I mean, we can't - we can't go back in time and save Vulcan. Crossing your own time stream, causes all sorts of - of - alternate realities and pocket universes and time singularities and sometimes there's gargoyles, and I'm sorry but we _can't_, and what I mean is I'll have you back right here well in time for the maiden voyage? What - what do you say?"

"Very well, Doctor. I admit to a considerable degree of curiosity."

"Yes!" cried the Doctor. "Fantastic! Come on!" He leapt to his feet, and reached out his hand to pull Spock up to his side. "Let's see what this universe has in store for a couple of misfit, homeless wanderers!"

"I feel I must mention, Doctor," said Spock, curiously watching the Doctor as he jiggled the key in the TARDIS lock. "I am not entirely homeless. I also consider the Earth to be my home."

"Well, if it comes to that, Mr. Spock," said the Doctor, ushering him through the door. "So do I. Oh, so do I!"

 

**seven point five**   
_one universe to the right_

"Wow." Cadet Janice Rand looked up just in time to see the small blue box dematerializing across the green.

"Hey, Tempe!" She nudged her girlfriend, who looked over, slightly annoyed, from her Kindle Reader Mark 42 (TM). "Did you know someone on campus is working on a new matter transporter? I'll have to find out who so I can tell them how much I _love_ the sound it makes!"

Cadet Temperance Janeway sighed affectionately. "Janice, one of these days you'll read _Starfleet Academy: A History_, and then you'll learn that no unauthorized transporter beams are permitted on campus. There's an inhibition field."

"Oh." Janice frowned. "Well, I guess I _could_ have imagined it .. "

Smiling, Tempe reached over and smoothed Janice's forehead. "Sweetheart, you're adorable when you're confused."

"Am I really?" Janice beamed, and kissed Tempe so thoroughly she forgot all about the little blue box.

Until three years later when it appeared on the bridge of the Enterprise, but that's another story.

 

**epilogue**   
_here and now_

"Jack, I haven't been able to reach him for _weeks_. I'm getting worried."

"Yeah, I hear you. I just think if he were in trouble, he'd have found a way to contact us, you know? I'm sure he's fine."

"Are you really sure?"

"Of course I am, Martha, I'm - huh."

"Jack? What? What is it?"

"I think we just got some inter-universe mail via the rift."

"What do you mean? Jack? Jack, I can be there in two hours -"

"No - it's okay. It's - it's a sheet of, um, _transparent aluminum_ with a message scrawled on in magic marker."

"What's it say? Jack?"

"Ahem. 'Be back later. Founding new universe. All my love.' Followed by two dashes and the letter 'D'."

"... Huh."

"Yeah. ... At least he wrote this time."

"True. There is that."

"We should be grateful."

"Right. ... Jack, I think I'm coming over anyway. I suddenly feel the need for a stiff drink."

"I hear you, gorgeous. I'll be waiting."

 

**coda**   
_one universe to the left_

"So Rose, was it just me, or d'you feel like you've seen that whole movie somewhere before?"

Rose Tyler, shop girl (and soon-to-be _night manager_ thank you very much) tilted her head to the side as she and her boyfriend walked out of the theatre into the late afternoon sunlight.

"Yeah," she answered, taking his arm. "It's like I really knew someone once, whose planet blew up." She laughed, almost nervously. "Bit mad, yeah?"

"I nearly expect to look up and see a big, exploding planet hanging in the sky," Mickey said quietly.

"D'you think he'll be all right?" Rose asked.

"I'm sure he will be," said Mickey. "I mean. We are talking about Spock, right?"

Rose turned to him with very big eyes. "'Course."

Mickey snorted. "Next thing we'll be home writing fanfic about it."

Rose giggled, and shook off the little tremor threatening to work its way up her spine. "Or could just be Hollywood's finally run out of new ideas. Anyway -- race you to the chip shop!"

Mickey let out a whoop and took off grinning, half a pace ahead.

Rose's white trainers flashed brilliantly against the pavement, and the tails of her long tan coat billowed out behind her, riding the wind.

 

Two streets over, there was suddenly a small blue box.

 

** _THE END._ **


End file.
